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Correspondence from Frieda Harris to Aleister Crowley
[Undated: circa December 1940]
. . . I am sad, my friend of my lifetime has just died. We have not met for some time but it is like losing my life and the warmth of my existence. You must write to me, just a rope to a drowning man. I shall recover but there will always be a cold gap. This life is hell and we are in prison.
I have forgotten to greet you. Love is the law, love under will—What a Will!
Yours ever,
Frieda Harris
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